


peas in a pod

by breakmystrings



Series: Tumblr Prompts [6]
Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Idiots in Love, M/M, Misunderstandings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-12
Updated: 2018-11-12
Packaged: 2019-08-22 10:47:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16596401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/breakmystrings/pseuds/breakmystrings
Summary: The thing is, Mitch isusedto people thinking he’s too much, that he’s always up in their space and smothering them.  That’s not the part that stings.  The part that really hurts, that makes the shame and mortification really sink in, and makes Mitch uncomfortably warm, is that this isAustonsaying those words, but not to his face like everyone.  This is hisbestfriend, the one Mitch thought he could trust with anything, the one hehastrusted with everything, and the one person that Mitch has always wanted more than anyone else; Mitch feels blindsided with what Auston really feels.  It’s not like Mitch every expected Auston to reciprocate all of his feelings, but it hurts more than he expected to hear that he’s been nothing more than an annoyance.





	peas in a pod

**Author's Note:**

> This was actually tagged [everyone loves Mitch (except Auston)](https://breakmystrings.tumblr.com/tagged/everyone-loves-mitch-%28except-auston%29) on my Tumblr (you can see an additional Auston POV ficlet there). The idea was originally prompted [here](https://breakmystrings.tumblr.com/post/179643444735/omg-i-meant-to-send-this-earlier-but-maybe-auston) so full credit to the nonny who sent their idea to me. Thanks to everyone that sent me asks/notes encouraging me to continue :)

“Sometimes, I don’t know if I want to punch you, or if I love you,” Johnny says, exasperated, but he looks fond and Mitch can’t help cackling as he throws his arms around his liney to give him a hug. Johnny pats his arm indulgently for maybe three seconds, and then he gently nudges him away.

 

“Don’t worry about it, I think that’s the default feeling we all have towards Mitchy,” Brownie chirps with a grin. Mitch throws a roll of tape at his head, but he dodges it easily.

 

“You all love me, don’t even front,” Mitch says, smug, and he moves on from Johnny to smother Kappy with a hug because he looks like he’s trying too hard to be cool and they can’t have that.

 

“Fuck off,” Kappy says, but he’s laughing, even if he looks like he’s trying really hard not to. “Where the hell is his keeper? Someone get Matty in here.”

 

Mitch rolls his eyes, but he smiles at the thought of Auston. Kappy gives him a look, like he knows exactly what Mitch is thinking, and Mitch squeezes him extra tight to distract him until he shoves Mitch’s face away from him with his hand.

 

“I’m going to look for Aus,” Mitch says, and Kappy gives him that look again, this tiny little knowing smirk that makes Mitch want to roll his eyes, but he ignores him and bounces out of the room. He remembers seeing Auston chatting with Patty earlier so he wanders down the halls until he finds them near one of the conference rooms they use for video review. He opens his mouth to announce his presence when he hears Patty say, “You have to talk to Mitch.”

 

Mitch stops moving. He doesn’t mean to, doesn’t really intend to eavesdrop, but neither of them notices him standing there less than ten feet away, and something about the way Auston’s slumped against the wall, his fingers tugging mercilessly at his hair, the same way he always gets when he’s annoyed; it makes Mitch pause. He’s definitely not proud of himself for doing this, but he lingers and listens.

 

“It’s just frustrating,” Auston says, and he sounds tired. “He’s like, always there, and its like I can’t get away.”

 

Mitch feels his blood go cold. This… this isn’t a conversation he should be listening in on. This is something he definitely _doesn’t_ want to hear, except it’s too late for him to run away.

 

“Sometimes I just need some space, you know? But he’s always too close,” Auston says, sounding frustrated. He crosses his arms in front of his chest and Patty frowns at him, but Mitch doesn’t hang around to figure out what else they’ve got to say about him. He yells at his feet to fucking _move_ , and then he’s turning back around and leaving.

 

The thing is, Mitch is _used_ to people thinking he’s too much, that he’s always up in their space and smothering them. That’s not the part that stings. The part that really hurts, that makes the shame and mortification really sink in, and makes Mitch uncomfortably warm, is that this is _Auston_ saying those words, but not to his face like everyone. This is his _best_ _friend_ , the one Mitch thought he could trust with anything, the one he _has_ trusted with everything, and the one person that Mitch has always wanted more than anyone else; Mitch feels blindsided with what Auston really feels. It’s not like Mitch every expected Auston to reciprocate all of his feelings, but it hurts more than he expected to hear that he’s been nothing more than an annoyance.

 

*

 

“Hey, you coming over?”

 

Mitch looks up to meet Auston’s eyes. He adjusts his hat over his head and tucks his hands in the pockets of his joggers. They usually hang out after practice, but it’s almost always Mitch inviting himself over and taking up space at Auston’s place. It never felt wrong before, but _now_ , the thought of barging into Auston’s space when he might not be wanted, of having to second-guess his every action because he’s no longer sure of how it’ll be received; it makes Mitch’s stomach churn and he feels sick.

 

“Naw… got shit to take care of,” Mitch lies, and he forces a smile on his face. It feels fake and exaggerated, but it’s better than acknowledging that he still feels like shit over a conversation he wasn’t supposed to have heard. “Maybe another day.”

 

“Oh. Sure,” Auston says. He looks surprised, but he shrugs it off, like it’s no big deal. It probably isn’t for him anyway. “See you at skate tomorrow.”

 

“Yeah, for sure,” Mitch says, and he drives straight home after that. He throws himself onto the couch and now that he’s alone, he can’t help but replay the conversation in his head. Mitch has never been the type of person that second-guesses or doubts himself, but now, he catches himself going through each and every memory of him and Auston, and he tries to remember how often he pushed Auston’s limits or maybe crossed the line of what’s acceptable between friends. He tries to think of any signs that he missed where he upset Auston, but Auston was always pretty indulgent when Mitch got like that. Or at least, Mitch thought so. Maybe he was just tolerating Mitch and he didn’t know how to tell him to stop.

 

Mitch scratches his head and shoves his face into a cushion so that he can scream. He doesn’t like doubting himself and he definitely doesn’t like it when he has to question the actions of the people he cares about, when he can’t figure out whether their reactions to him were genuine or not. He _hates_ this, so he does what he usually does when he’s stuck and he doesn’t know what to do: call in reinforcements.

 

Mitch grabs his phone and opens his group chat with Cees and Marty.

 

_am I too much_

 

It’s vague but he figures it’s as good of an opener as he has.

 

Cees is the first to text back, and it’s a simple: _yes_

 

Marty chimes in not long after: _but we love you anyway_

 

Mitch smiles. It’s what he expected, but it’s not the question he really wants to ask.

 

_am I too pushy and annoying_

 

The typing bubbles keep flashing and disappearing, and eventually, Marty sends his response.

 

 _who do I have to beat up_?

 

Mitch laughs, but it comes out a bit like a sob anyway. He can always count on Marty to blindly have his back.

 

_no one just curious_

   


_Marty just punch a few leafs you don’t like at the next game just in case_

 

Mitch snorts. As if there’s a single Leafs player that Marty doesn’t like. Cees is fucking ridiculous, but it puts a smile on Mitch’s face anyway.

 

_good call I’ll starts with Hyms_

 

_no punching my liney!_

   


_start with the snake  
_

   


_no punching my C!!!_

   


_spoilsport_

 

Mitch bursts out laughing. God, he misses these guys like crazy. He can always count on them to cheer him up. He might not have Auston anymore, but at least he has this.

 

*

 

Mitch doesn’t intentionally avoid Auston afterwards. He just, stops inviting him to hang out, and then it’s like he never sees him outside of the rink. Mitch tries not to let it bother him. There’s like, a ton of other guys on the team that like him and want to spend time with him and don’t hide their feelings from him. It’s fine.

 

It still really bums Mitch out.

 

Auston’s injury makes it easier on the road, at least at the start, until he joins them again when he gets closer to returning, but they continue their tradition of movies nights with Patty so at least Mitch has a buffer. Having Patty there means that Mitch doesn’t have to worry about filling the silence between him and Auston, doesn’t have to overthink what he’s saying or doing if he can direct all of his attention to Patty instead of just Auston.

 

Sometimes, he thinks Auston notices, the way he gives Mitch a pinched, puzzled look whenever Mitch doesn’t bounce over after practice and insist on COD or lunch or just hanging out. But he never says anything so it’s probably just Mitch projecting, and Mitch isn’t pathetic enough to keep pressing where he knows he’s unwanted. Instead, Mitch skips over to Hyms after they’ve showered and gotten dressed, and he drapes himself all over him.

 

“Liney bonding time?” Mitch asks, except it’s not really a question because he’s not going to accept any other answer apart from an emphatic yes.

 

“Again?” Hyms looks like he’s trying to sound harassed, but Mitch can see him fighting off a smile so Mitch knows he doesn’t mean it.

 

“Yu _p_ ,” Mitch says. “Johnny already escaped so it’s just you and me.”

 

Hyms sighs, but he’s smiling indulgently now, and he let’s Mitch drag them both to his car. Mitch tries to look up a good place for lunch on his phone and he hears Hyms ask, “Things okay?”

 

“Uh yeah, should they not be?” Mitch asks, deflecting. He smiles, but he feels a bit deranged with how forced it is, the way his facial muscles go tight and heavy.

 

“I don’t know, you tell me,” Hyms says, and he looks patient while he waits him out.

 

“Just feeling a bit bummed out,” Mitch says when the silence drags on for far too long. (Hyms always knows how to get shit out of him.)

 

“Is it because of Matty?”

 

Mitch doesn’t say anything, simply shrugs, and Hyms looks like he gets it.

 

“Okay,” Hyms says easily, and he throws an arm around Mitch’s shoulders and squeezes him hard. It eases the tightness in Mitch’s chest, like the knot isn’t squeezing him with everything it’s got, like it’s trying to suffocate him. “Where are we going for lunch?”

 

Mitch smiles, for real this time. Hyms is the best.

 

*

 

The team gets a bit win against the Bruins, which means they have to go out and celebrate. Mitch takes shots with Freddie (shutout shots!) and Naz (game-winner shots!), as well as with Willy and Hyms and _all_ his favourite people on the team. He’s got a nice routine now. Pound the shot, cheer, and give each and every one of them a hug. It’s basically the best.

 

Mitch is in the best stage drunk, happy and tipsy, when he realizes he’s been abandoned by the rest of the team and it’s just Auston standing in front of him with that little smirk on his face.

 

“Well, someone’s having fun,” he says, and it’s teasing and light, but it’s the first conversation they’ve had alone in a really long time that isn’t about hockey, and Mitch has to stop himself from doing something stupid like throw himself at Auston or something. Mitch glares at his hands that twitch towards him anyway, this natural instinct inside of him that always wants to be as close to Auston as possible.

 

“Victory shots,” Mitch says eventually, and he shakes the bottle of beer in his hand. Auston quirks a brow at him, and fine, he’s been barred from having more shots after he made a complete mess at the bar with his lineys where he might’ve shattered a glass or two (totally not his fault, glass is slippery). “Victory beer. Whatever.”

 

Auston laughs, and god, it sounds _so_ good. Mitch missed hearing that so much, missed the way Auston always throws his head back when he’s extra amused, how big his smiles get. The warm sound of his voice makes Mitch feel all dumb and fuzzy inside, this pleased sensation at being responsible for getting that out of him (no matter how small of a role he played).

 

“You’re ridiculous, Auston says, but he’s smiling as he leans forward against the table. “Feels like forever since I caught you alone.”

 

“You could’ve asked me to hang out,” Mitch blurts out without thinking, and then he immediately wants to bury himself alive. It’s something he used to say to Auston all the time, but it was always teasing and joking, not this pathetic and desperate plea that makes Mitch flush with embarrassment.

 

“Hey,” Auston says, and Mitch startles when he feels his hand on his arm. Mitch looks down at it, and he hates himself for leaning into the touch once the initial shock passes, absolutely _loathes_ himself for craving it even now. “Are we… are we cool?”

 

Mitch wants to say no, not even close, and they haven’t been “cool” for so long that Mitch feels sick with it, but Auston didn’t even notice until Mitch opened his stupid mouth and said something. He wants to air out his frustrations because he hates not being able to take anything Auston says at face value anymore, hates the way he’s uncomfortable being himself around someone he always considered his best friend. Except Mitch still misses Auston like a phantom limb, and he wants to cling onto whatever scraps he’s been given, to keep those crumbs close to his chest because he really is that pathetic and sad. He doesn’t want to say anything if it means losing what little remains of their friendship.

 

So this time, when Mitch tries to smile, its not as forced and strained as before. He’s always going to take whatever Auston’s willing to give him, can’t bring himself to ask for more from him (doesn’t feel like he _deserves_ to).

 

“We’re good.”

 

*

 

It’s their new normal, where Mitch tries to remind himself not to be too weird around Auston. He still doesn’t invite him to hang out (still waits for _Auston_ to do something about it and tries not to be disappointed when he doesn’t), but he tries really hard not to always rely on the rest of the team to be a buffer between them, and it works as long as they’re in a big group together. Except it’s too little, too late, because the team starts to notice. Which, shouldn’t surprise Mitch as much as it does, since he went from showing up to every team event attached to Auston’s side to walking in solo with his hands tucked into his pockets and sidestepping any and all awkward jokes about where his “chiller half” is. He should’ve been prepared for it anyway, since Hyms’ spidey sense were already tingling after barely a week.

 

Mo keeps giving Mitch these looks in the room, like he wants to talk to him about it, but Mitch just hams it up even more and gives him lots of hugs and chirps him every opportunity he gets so that he can focus on being annoyed at Mitch instead of worried about him. Freddie is tougher to distract, especially when he texts Mitch to carpool to the rink together (no one says no to the goalie).

 

“You and Matty look off,” Freddie opens with once they hit the road (Mitch doesn’t know whether or not he appreciates him going straight for the slapper instead of a little dipsy-doodle). “Did something happen?”

 

“We’re not fighting,” Mitch says, which isn’t a lie. He tries to focus on the road, except the traffic is at a complete standstill, and there’s nothing else Mitch can focus on _apart_ from Freddie right now. Hell, he’d settle for a surprise racoon attack at this point, but nothing.

 

“That’s not what I asked,” Freddie says, sharp as ever. “You know, you can tell me anything.”

 

Mitch looks over and he smiles appreciatively at Freddie. He loves Freddie, he’s one of Mitch’s favourite people not just on the team but _ever_ , but Auston is _Freddie’s_ favourite, and Mitch isn’t dumb enough to believe that anything he says to Freddie won’t get back to Auston in some shape or form. It seems contradicting that Mitch would trust Freddie with his life but can’t trust him with something as ridiculous as his hurt feelings, but he knows how close Freddie and Auston are, and it’s not something worth chancing.

 

“Did Aus complain about me or something?” Mitch asks, and he keeps his tone light, like he’s teasing, except his voice starts to waver at the end.

 

“Just wanted to make sure you’re good,” Freddie says, and Mitch can hear the deflection in his words. Mitch is a _master_ at deflecting and he can spot it being done back to him a mile away, which confirms his theory: if Freddie had to choose a side, it’s not going to be Mitch’s.

 

“Always good when I’m around Fredx,” Mitch says, and he flashes Freddie a toothy grin.

 

Freddie doesn’t ask about Auston again after that.

 

*

 

Mitch has been looking forward to the Islanders’ game for a long time, has had it flagged in his calendar the second the schedule came out. He can barely contain his excitement as he takes a running leap into Marty’s outstretched arms at the restaurant, and the joy nearly bursts out of him.

 

“It’s good to see you too,” Marty says, laughing. He squeezes Mitch extra tight, practically lifting him off the ground, before he pulls back with a big grin on his face. Mitch laughs once he’s back on solid ground again. God, it feels _so_ good to see Marty again, and it makes Mitch feel lighter than he has been in _weeks_. “Killing it out there, bro.”

 

Mitch preens. “You too. Since when did you become such a lethal scorer?” Mitch asks, punching Marty’s arm playfully.

 

“Always had it. You just never appreciated it,” Marty says, and he’s smiling, but maybe there’s some truth in it too, with the way things didn’t work out for him in Toronto.

 

“I always appreciate you man,” Mitch says honestly, and Marty’s grin widens as they finally get settled at their table. They catch up as they order and by the time their food is in front of him, Mitch is laughing harder than he can remember. He wishes Marty could always be around, but he knows better than to say it.

 

“So, how hard do I have to hit Matty tomorrow?” Marty asks once they’ve mostly demolished their food.

 

Mitch gives him an unimpressed look. “You’re not hitting him _at all_. He just recovered from his shoulder injury!”

 

“Ah… still protective,” Marty teases, and Mitch rolls his eyes at him.

 

“We’re still friends,” Mitch says defensively, even if some days it doesn’t feel like that at all. Maybe he _is_ too sensitive for his own good.

 

“So things are fine now?” Marty asks, his tone much gentler and more serious now.

 

“Sort of,” Mitch says. He pushes the peas around on his plate. They don’t look appetizing on a good day, but they look straight-up repulsive right now.

 

“Are you going to tell me what happened?” Mitch looks up and he sees Marty looking at him patiently, but Mitch shrugs. It feels ridiculous to say it out loud, makes him feel like a child for caring. “Did you make a move?”

 

Trust Marty to go straight for the KO.

 

In some ways, Mitch kind of wished he did make a move, and that the fallout was as simple as Auston turning him down. Rejection is something Mitch can deal with, because rejection means that Mitch knows where he stands with Auston. Rejection means that Auston was honest with Mitch about how he feels. That’d be so much better than whatever awkward in-between they’re in right now where Mitch doesn’t know which direction he should go.

 

“Just got a bit too clingy,” Mitch says eventually. “So, decided to chill out around him a bit.”

 

Marty’s face is unreadable for a moment, but the gentle smile returns and he reaches out and squeezes Mitch’s arm.

 

“I’ve got your back if you need me,” he says. Mitch never had any doubt about that, but he smiles appreciatively anyway.

 

“Thanks Marty.”

 

*

 

They go on a five-game road trip, which Mitch normally doesn’t mind because he loves the kind of team-bonding that happens when they’re away from home. But long road trips mean extended time rooming with Auston, and it’s long enough that Mitch can’t just use Patty as a buffer.

 

It’s fine though. Mitch is an adult. He can totally handle this.

 

They have dinner together with the team and Mitch sits next to Johnny so it’s easy to focus on his liney instead of Auston, who’s sitting across from him and chatting with Mo. When it’s time to clear out, Mitch nudges Patty’s shoulder and asks him what movie he wants to watch with them tonight.

 

“Can’t tonight,” he says, and Mitch feels his stomach drop. “Brody wanted me to call tonight so that he can tell me how his tournament went.”

 

Mitch thinks about asking him to come after that, but he knows that Patty’s phone-calls home always take a good hour (at least) and it feels a bit too desperate to cling onto Patty so he tries to act nonchalant about it and asks Patty to say hi to the kids for him. He tells himself it’ll be fine as he heads to their room. It’ll be fine, things have been better lately (their new normal), except Mitch feels too on edge to stay calm.

 

Auston walks into the room a little while after Mitch, and Mitch gives him a nod before going back to rummaging in his suitcase for his pajamas.

 

“Patty’s got dad duties tonight so he’s not coming over,” Mitch says without looking up. He’s making a total mess as he digs around for his favourite t-shirt to sleep in, but he’ll take this over making eye contact with Auston right now.

 

“Too bad,” Auston says. “Whatcha want to watch?”

 

“Doesn’t matter,” Mitch says, and he makes a triumphant sound as he finally finds his shirt. He heads to the bathroom to change, and he takes his time getting dressed. It’s not delaying if he’s just… not rushing. He even takes the extra effort to floss and brush his teeth until he’s nearly gagging from the minty freshness that reminds him of being poked and probed by a dentist.

 

By the time Mitch is done, Auston’s already got an episode queued up on Netflix. There’s a lot of space next to him on the bed, a spot Mitch used to literally jump on whenever they were on the road, except right now, Mitch feels hyperaware of how out of place he is, like maybe he was always trying to push himself into a space that didn’t belong to him. It reminds him of that dumb toy, with all the different shapes that had to be placed back into its matching spot, and Mitch is constantly trying to push the wrong shape into the wrong spot.

 

“You okay?” Auston asks, and Mitch’s head snaps up. He didn’t even realize he was staring at his feet until he wasn’t anymore, and Auston looks concerned. Mitch forces a smile on his face and nods his head. He climbs onto the bed next to Auston, but he leaves enough space so that he’s not smothering him (they could probably fit another whole person between them).

 

“Do I stink or something?” Auston teases, and he points to the space between them. Mitch shuffles a bit closer, but the look on Auston’s face goes from light and teasing to pinched and worried in a flash. He wishes Auston would just let it go instead of pretending like he cares. “Hey, are you sure you’re alright?” He’s all frowny and concerned and Mitch _hates_ it.

 

“I’m just trying to give you space,” Mitch says finally, feeling too damn frustrated.

 

Auston furrows his brows, looking confused. “You’ve never given me space for a single day since I’ve met you. But now all of a sudden, it’s like you’re hiding from me or something.”

 

“Well that’s what you wanted, wasn’t?” Mitch says. He’s tired of pretending everything is okay when it really isn’t.

 

“When did I say that?”

 

Mitch doesn’t know what’s more upsetting, Auston playing dumb or him making Mitch feel bad for doing exactly what he asked for.

 

“I heard you talking to Patty in the hallway after practice, that day before you got hurt.”

 

Auston pales. Like, white as a sheet, and he looks like how he would be if he was trapped in a haunted house by himself with no escape plan. Mitch would feel bad if he didn’t feel completely like shit already.

 

“You weren’t support to hear that,” Auston says immediately. Mitch looks up, dumbfounded, and he can’t decide if he feels guilty for eavesdropping or hurt that the thing Auston cares most about is being caught but not the things he said.

 

“Well I did, and I didn’t mean to eavesdrop or whatever,” Mitch says, completely avoiding Auston’s eyes right now because he can feel his eyes start to prickle and the last thing he wants is to do something stupid like cry in front him. “I just wanted to ask if we could hang out after practice, but it was kind of hard to say anything after hearing that you didn’t want me around.”

 

Auston grabs his arm, but the touch doesn’t make Mitch feel better like it usually does. Instead, it makes him feel even more pathetic because he still wants Auston, even when he doesn’t feel the same way in any capacity.

 

“I think I’m going to room with Hyms tonight,” Mitch says, and he tugs his arm free.

 

“Mitch…” Mitch doesn’t want to look at Auston right now, doesn’t want to think about how cold he feels without the warmth of Auston’s hand on him, doesn’t want to acknowledge the desperate edge in Auston’s voice, and he doesn’t want to think about the suffocating weight that’s pressing down on his chest that’s making it too hard to breathe. The room suddenly feels too small, like he’s trapped in this space, and he just, he needs to get out. He doesn’t want to be here anymore.

 

Mitch grabs his phone and key, and he doesn’t wait around to hear what else Auston has to say before he leaves the room.

 

Auston doesn’t follow him.

 

*

 

They blow their game and Mitch plays like complete ass the whole night. Babs looks like he doesn’t know where to start yelling and, in the end, he dismisses them and tells them to get some rest because they’ve got another game the next night. Mitch drags himself onto the plane, puts his Beats on, and turns the volume as high as his phone allows before he gets the hearing loss warning and settles in for the flight. Hyms takes the seat next to him, but he doesn’t try to talk to Mitch, like he’s just there to act as a protective barrier for Mitch from everyone else. He puts his own headphones on, grabs his sleeping mask, and gives Mitch a consoling smile. He squeezes Mitch’s knee and puts his mask on, and that’s it.

 

Hyms is seriously the fucking best. Mitch loves him so fucking much, and he would give him a hug if he didn’t feel completely useless right now.

 

Mitch grabs his keys when they get to the hotel, but he doesn’t bother checking to see where his room is. Instead, he moves to follow Hyms to his room and crashes onto the bed closest by the window. Hyms pats his head, but apart from that, he doesn’t pester Mitch to take off his suit or brush his teeth or turn off the light on his side of the room. Mitch could cry from how patient and amazing Hyms is.

 

“You’re the best, you know that right?” Mitch says as he rolls over onto his side to look at Hyms.

 

“What happened to me being the absolute worse with all my rules and alarms and shit?” Hyms says, and Mitch laughs weakly.

 

“Naw… you know I appreciated it,” Mitch says honestly, and Hyms smiles as he puts his phone on the little table in-between them.

 

“Good, the alarm’s set for eight tomorrow.”

 

Mitch groans and rolls back over onto his back, but he’s smiling as he closes his eyes and falls asleep to the familiar sound of Hyms’ snoring.

 

*

 

They get an ugly shootout win, but a win is a win so Mitch will fucking take it (he didn’t get a point, but Hyms scored _two_ goals _and_ got an assist, and Mitch was so goddamn proud of him that he leapt into his arms after his third point). The energy in the room is as high ever, the way it always is after they get a win, and it gets even louder when Babs announces they’re getting the morning off the next day.

 

It’s late by the time they get to their hotel that night (basically morning), but when Mitch goes to follow Hyms this time, Auston stops him with a hand on his arm.

 

“Hey… I think we should talk,” Auston says and Mitch stares at his hand that’s still holding onto his arm, his grip tight but not painful. Mitch looks up and he sees Hyms’ worried face in his peripheral. He looks like he wants to intervene but Mitch shakes his head. He can’t avoid Auston forever. It’d be bad for the team, and it’s not really fair to Auston anyway.

 

“Okay,” Mitch says, and he follows Auston to their room at the end of the hall. He leaves his suitcase by the door and steps out of his shoes. He bounces on the bed when he hops on the mattress and he waits. Auston is lingering by the door, looking unsure, and Mitch smiles weakly at him as he gestures him over. He waits until Auston’s on the bed next to him before he says, “Look, I know I can be a lot, and it’s probably annoying. I get it. I just wish you would’ve told me.”

 

Auston grabs Mitch’s hand, squeezing it so tightly that Mitch flinches, and Auston immediately loosens his grip but he doesn’t let go. Mitch can’t help looking down at their joined hands. Auston’s hands are cool and clammy but Mitch never wants to let go.

 

“I don’t know what you heard, but I can promise you that that’s not what the issue is,” Auston says, and Mitch wants to believe him, he really does, but doesn’t know if he can.

 

“Sure,” Mitch says, and his voice probably betrays what he really feels because Auston tugs on his hand until he looks over to meet his eyes. Auston looks… Mitch doesn’t know how to describe it, but his expression is open and vulnerable, like that morning when Auston’s concussion symptoms were at its worst and he confessed to Mitch his fears about never reaching his potential when the injuries kept derailing his play. It had hurt to hear Auston talk like that, and it hurts now to see Auston wearing the same expression even if it’s not exactly the same. Mitch can’t look away from him when he’s like this.

 

“I’m serious Mitch,” Auston says quietly. “It was never you.”

 

Mitch wants to laugh at the cliché “it’s not you it’s me” breakup line that ultimately always makes things worse. He feels like he’s getting dumped even when he never got to experience the relationship to begin with. He feels his eyes prickle with pathetic tears and he forces himself to look away so that he can rub his eyes with his free hand. Auston might not have wanted to make Mitch feel like a desperate, pathetic mess, but that’s what’s happening here.

 

“Shit, I’m fucking this up again.”

 

Mitch feels the bed shift next to him, and then suddenly, Auston’s in front of him, looking up at him as he brushes Mitch’s tears away from the corner of his eyes with his thumb.

 

“The problem isn’t that you’re always around,” Auston says gently, his voice absolutely wrecked, “it’s how much I _want_ you to be.”

 

Mitch… he doesn’t understand.

 

“I’m in love with you,” Auston says after a long pause, but he doesn’t say it like he’s happy about it. He sounds exactly the same as he does after a playoff loss when the game-winner was on his stick and he flubbed his chance. He sounds defeated.

 

Mitch stares at Auston, stunned and in disbelief over Auston’s confession.

 

He doesn’t know how much time has passed when he hears Auston speak again, but it must’ve been a while because Auston looks wrecked. “Can you, um… say something?” Auston pleads. He looks a bit desperate, mentally bracing himself for a rejection that Mitch would never give him, and when the shock fades, Mitch falls back onto the bed and laughs.

 

“Oh my _god_ , we’re so dumb,” Mitch says, and his eyes are still teary, but he’s laughing like a crazy person and he can’t believe that this is their life. He covers his face with his free hand as the giggles take over his body. “I can’t believe it.”

 

Mitch sits up again with his big dumb smile, and Auston looks nervous and maybe a little hopeful now. They’re still holding hands. “We really are two peas in a pod,” Mitch says, and the uncomfortable weight on his chest, the knot that practically suffocated him; they all fade and untangle to nothing. Mitch feels a little bit like he’s floating right now, his chest so full of warmth and fuzziness, and Auston is his anchor that’s keeping him grounded. “I’m so stupidly in love with you too.”

 

“Oh my god,” Auston says, his shoulders sagging as he laughs in relief, and the smile that blooms on his face, it’s so happy and beautiful and Mitch loves him so goddamn much. Mitch throws himself into his arms, hugs him as tightly as he can, and they fall back onto the carpet in a mess of tangled limbs but they’re laughing and Mitch is so, _so_ happy that this doesn’t even feel real anymore. Mitch pulls back just enough so that he can look at Auston’s face, and his cheeks are flushed and his hair is flopping all over his face and his smile is big and goofy but he’s still the best thing that Mitch has ever laid eyes on.

 

Mitch brushes Auston’s hair away from his face and Mitch smiles as he leans in to kiss him. It’s a simple press of their lips, but it still makes Mitch’s chest soar. This is _Auston_ , the person that Mitch has always felt the closest to, the person that knows every little thing about him, but this is something new and terrifying but Mitch has never been more excited. He always thought that nothing would change their relationship, but this right here, it feels like the start of something new. Not a brand-new story, but an extension of something already old and solid (dumb misunderstandings aside).

 

“I love you,” Mitch says, just because he can now, and Auston’s smile makes him look so dorky but happy.

 

“I can’t believe you thought I would ever hate having you around,” Auston says. He cups Mitch’s face with his hand, the touch so gentle and sweet that Mitch’s chest aches with it. “I’m sorry I fucked up.”

 

Mitch shakes his head and he means it when he says, “I’m sorry too. I should’ve said something instead of sulking and cutting you out.” He’s pretty sure that if it was anyone else, he probably would’ve said something, but with Auston, the thought of hearing him confirm one of Mitch’s worst fears is too terrifying of a thought. Mitch doesn’t want to think about how much it’d hurt to hear Auston say that out loud.

 

Auston smiles and says, “Patty would be so proud that we’re talking like adults now.” Mitch hangs his head and laughs. “He was pushing me to confess, but I was too scared to. I thought maybe you realized how I felt, that’s why you pulled away, like that was you giving me your response.”

 

“I think I’ve been in love with you since we were rookies,” Mitch says much too honestly, and Auston mouth drops open in surprise, but then he’s smiling, this small but beautiful smile that makes Mitch’s heart melt.

 

“My first game back when we got to play together in Montreal, I had to stop myself so many times from kissing you in front of everyone,” Auston says, his hand still caressing Mitch’s face like he’s something precious. “I’ve been so fucking gone for you for so long too.”

 

Mitch remembers that game, the way Auston had looked at him when they scored, and he feels his chest flush with warmth, practically bursting with it, and he has to lean down to kiss Auston to calm that feeling. Auston’s lips are so soft, moving so perfectly against Mitch’s, and Mitch feels like he could lay here and kiss Auston forever. Except the floor is disgusting and the bed is less than two feet away.

 

It takes them a long time to pull away. Mitch can’t bring himself to moving too far away from Auston. They stick close together as they get ready for bed, always touching, even if it’s as simple as their hips bumping together at the sink as they brush their teeth. Mitch can’t stop smiling and when they climb into bed together. Mitch doesn’t hesitate as he cuddles as close to Auston as possible, and Auston pulls Mitch right on top of him so that Mitch’s head is pillowed on his chest. Mitch feels so happy that he doesn’t know what to do with himself. He squeezes Auston extra tight, and he sighs contently as he listens to the steady thump-thump of Auston’s heartbeat.

 

The team is going to give them _so much shit_ for this, but that’s something for them to worry about tomorrow. Right now, Mitch focuses on Auston, the feel of his chest rising and falling as he breathes, and when Mitch looks up, he sees Auston watching him back. He pushes himself up to kiss Auston, slow and perfect, just because he can now, and he can feel Auston's smile against his lips, like he's thinking the same thing.


End file.
